Waking Up
by Scribbles97
Summary: Fluffy One Shot! Jeff returns home one night in a thunderstorm, only to realise how much his boys need him and how bad a father he has been since his wife's death. But everyone makes mistakes, don't they?


**Waking Up**

Jeff sighed as he was met by the silence of the house, he had spent too much time hidden away in his office recently. What kind of father left his five sons to fend for themselves?

"Lucy would kill you," He uttered as he pulled his tie from his neck and threw his coat over the back of the sofa, sending a packet of crayons clattering to the floor.

He smiled as he picked up his youngest son's drawing, left on the coffee table, forgotten in the pre-bedtime rush. Six stick figures were drawn out, Jeff recognised them as each of his sons and himself. In one corner of the paper was a winged figure, a yellow circle drawn around her head. The father sighed and sunk down in the soft leather of the sofa.

He knew he was hiding from the truth, burying himself in his work so that he didn't have to face the fact that his wife would never greet him at home again. He would sit for hours on their bed, wondering why she had to be taken from him in such a cruel fashion. They hadn't even got to share a goodbye kiss, Scott, John, and Virgil had wanted to get up the mountain before all the slopes got too crowded.

Of course, Jeff didn't blame his oldest sons for wanting to get going, they had been eager and excited to ski. None of them knew that the avalanche would hit the lodge that they had been staying in, they hadn't known what they would come back to.

A rumble of thunder made the father jump, snapping him out of his thoughts. He smiled softly and headed up the stairs, it was late and he had spent too many nights that week thinking of _what if's_ and _how comes_.

There was a quiet sniffling coming from Alan's room, making Jeff pause. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he had last put his youngest son to bed, since he had put any of his sons to bed. Then again, Scott had been insisting for almost a year now that he was too big for being tucked in at night.

When he heard the sniffle again along with another rumble of thunder that seemed to make the house vibrate, Jeff pushed the door open slightly. The muffled whimpering became clearer to him, coming from under the bright blue duvet.

"Alan?" He called softly as he stepped over to the bed, tugging gently on the duvet to reveal his teary eyes, snotty nosed son. The three year old quivered slightly with another rumble of thunder.

Jeff sighed and pulled his youngest son into his arms, "It's alright Al, just a bit of thunder,"

The boy clung to his father's shirt, hiding against his shoulder. It took the father a minute, but he quickly realised what the problem was. The low rumbling of the thunder that made the house vibrate, sounded just like the low rumble of an avalanche.

Jeff took a deep breath, his gut twisting into a tight knot. How had he been so selfish as to leave his sons in this state?

 _Things are going to change_ , He told himself, _Starting right now._

He stood up with the small boy held to his chest, "How about some warm milk?"

Alan sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, his Space Teddy clutched in his hand. He had only just realised that his father was talking to him, carrying him downstairs to the kitchen. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he watched his father take his blue cup from the cupboard and fill it with some milk from the fridge. As his father started the microwave another rumble of thunder, low and threatening, reverberated through the house.

The boy whimpered and clung tightly to his father, remembering the cold darkness under the heavy blanket of snow.

Jeff kissed his son's downy blond hair and rubbed his back lightly, "You're safe, Allie," He murmured, "It's alright,"

"Don't like it," The small boy mumbled, his thumb lodged in his mouth. Jeff smiled and nodded, "I never used to like thunder," He admitted softly as the microwave beeped, "How about we take this milk and I'll tell you a story? That's what your Grandpa used to do with me,"

Alan smiled around his thumb and presented his Space Teddy, " 'Pace story?"

Jeff looked past his youngest son to the second boy, stood in the doorway rubbing his sleepy eyes, "I want a space story too!"

Alan perked up at his brother voice, "Yeah!"

Jeff smiled as his red headed son came to his side and hugged him, "Did the thunder wake you up Gords?"

The boy nodded tiredly and looked to the cup of milk in the microwave, "Miwlk?"

Jeff set Alan down, "You two go and get comfy on the sofa, and I'll bring some drinks,"

Gordon took his only younger brothers hand and grinned, "Can I get the blankets?"

Jeff smiled and nodded, "And the bean bags,"

The two boys' faces lit up and they hurried off to get the things out, neither bothered any more by the incessant rumbling of thunder.

* * *

John groaned as an urgent whispering from the other side of his room interrupted his sleep. He reached out to flick on the bedside lamp, only to stop the whisperings and for his door to slam shut. Still half asleep he stood up and followed after the soft padding on the landing, heading for the stairs. It was only when he found his youngest two brothers in the lounge, pulling blankets onto the sofa.

"Gords, Alan," He frowned, shaking his head, "What are you doing?" He folded his arms when he saw his rocket blanket over Alan's head, "Why did you take my blanket?"

"Daddy said!" Alan exclaimed, too loudly in the sleeping house.

Gordon frowned at his youngest brother before explaining to his older brother, "Daddy's making miwlk and is going to tell us a stowry,"

The second youngest stole John's blanket back from Alan and held it out to it's rightful owner, "He told us to get the blankets,"

John smiled and took the blanket gratefully, "It's alright," He stepped over to the sofa and tucked the blanket around Alan, "You can have the blanket,"

The older boys heart swelled as his youngest brother grinned up to him, "John, stay for story?"

John glanced up as the light from the kitchen was cut off, he smiled to his Dad, realising this was him trying to make an effort. He didn't care that it had taken him three months, everyone took different amounts of time to get through grief.

"Yeah, I'll stay for the story."

Jeff's heart swelled at his second oldest, he realised just how much the boys had been leaning on each other recently. He once again felt guilty for leaving them, he had been a terrible father these last few months.

The father sat between his two youngest sons, allowing them to curl into him like they had used to do on his bed in an evening. John sat on the floor, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his head resting on his father's knee. Jeff smiled softly, and thought of his other two, dark haired sons, it seemed unfair to leave them out of this. It was a Thursday, a late night and a long weekend wouldn't do them any harm. In fact, Jeff was sure it would do them all some good.

"Go and wake up your brothers John," Jeff instructed, "Gordon, go and help Alan pick a DVD."

John sat straighter, it was a school night, they weren't allowed to stay up late to watch films on school nights. His father seemed at ease though, he must have had some sort of plan. So, John didn't question him as he got up and headed up the stairs.

He knocked on the shared door of his two brunette brothers and pursed his lips as there was a pair of matching groans from within.

Scott pulled the door open, his hair sticking out at odd angles, "What's wrong?"

John smiled at his only older brother, knowing that the news that their dad was finally making an effort would cheer him up, "Dad's putting a DVD on, he told me to come and wake you both up,"Scott looked over his shoulder as Virgil joined them in the doorway, sleepy confusion written all over the young boys face, "But it's a Thursday?"

The three heard a cheer from downstairs, "No school tomorrow! Thanks Daddy!"

Scott smiled as Virgil's face lit up and he uttered a quiet, "Yes,"

He shared a look with his first youngest brother, "Doesn't look like we have an excuse then,"

Virgil charged off, leaving the two older boys to walk downstairs together. John looked to Scott and murmured quietly, "I don't know what's caused it, but he's trying to help again Scott,"

Scott paused at the top of the stairs, from there he could hear the giggles of his three youngest brothers as their father said something in a peculiar voice. The oldest son couldn't help but smile softly, he hadn't heard those laughs for three months. He couldn't be mad at his father for being gone, they all had their ways of coping, some were better than others. His dad was trying to make amends now though, so who was Scott to not accept the olive branch?

Jeff was pouring a bag of popcorn into a large bowl when he felt eyes on him from behind. He turned to find his oldest son stood hesitantly in the doorway. Scott smiled to his Dad and quietly murmured, "It's a while since we've all sat down for a movie,"

Jeff sighed as he set the bowl down, striding across the small space to crouch in front of the boy. He could never explain to his son how proud he was of him, how brave he had been while he had just run away. He wondered which out of the two of them was the real man.

The father held his son's arms tightly, a lump swelling in his throat as he looked his oldest son in the eye, "I'm sorry I've not been here, Scotty," He murmured, "I should have been home more after what happened, I should have been tucking you all in, reading the bedtime stories… I- I just-"

Scott felt the tears stinging his eyes at his father's admission, but he refused to let the bravest man he knew see him cry. So, he hid his tears by hugging his role model tightly, but he couldn't hide the sob that wracked his body as he whispered, "I miss her Dad,"

His father rubbed his back, comforting him the best he could, "I know son, I'm so, so sorry for being a bad father,"

Scott swallowed hard and wiped his eyes, forcing a smile as one of the others turned the TV volume right up in the front room, "It's okay," He smiled and remembered what his mother had told him time and again, "Everyone makes mistakes, right?"

He knew from his father's smile that he approved, "Yeah, and I'm going to make up for them, starting from now,"

Scott peaked at the bowl on the counter that his father took and passed to him, "So, let's go and get this movie on."

Scott grinned and stole a piece of the sweet popped corn, if he was getting a day off of school he certainly wasn't complaining.

* * *

The morning after the thunderstorm, Grandma Tracy let herself into her son's house, ready for the daily school run that she had been seeing to for the last three months. In the night she had been worried about the boys, especially young Alan who was still terrified of any loud noises after his ordeal. She was sure her son would have gotten home by then though, it was about time he started to take som more responsibility for them again.

The woman refused to push him though, he had lost his wife, which was hard enough in itself without having five constant reminders of her running around the house. She knew that jeff would wake up at some point, in the mean time she just had to do what she could to help the young boys along.

When she wasn't greeted by the usual bickering and orders from Scott, Grandma worried a little. _The door was unlocked, anyone could have walked in and…_ Her train of thought stopped dead as she stepped into the lounge and was greeted by a most beautiful sight. A father, head lolled back against the cushions of the sofa, and his five sons curled up in various positions around him. All sleeping heavily.

The TV was turned right down, the title screen of one of Gordon's favourite films bathing the room in a soft yellow hue. Half mugs of milk, and an empty bowl confirmed that the six boys had been there all night.

Grandma smiled happily to herself as her son stirred in the middle of the group. It looked like he had finally woken up.


End file.
